


Glasses

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:56:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS: The Other Side, Shades of Grey, a little of Forever in a DayDaniel muses about his glasses.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Glasses

##  Glasses

##### Written by Rach L   


  


**EPILOGUE for _The Other Side_**

I insist on wearing glasses. 

A few people who know what I do for a living think it's ridiculous. Considering that my profession has to be the single most dangerous job in Earth's history, yeah, it does sound pretty stupid. They say by wearing contact lenses, I can reduce the number of times my glasses get lost when I'm in trouble. And maybe I can reduce the number of times I get into trouble too. 

But still I wear glasses. 

Why? 

Good question. 

First of all, contact lenses, with all their advantages, are not as convenient as they seem. I did use contact lenses once. A guy can listen to threats of a certain colonel only _so_ many times. Besides, Sam got me a set on my birthday. It'd have been such a shame not to give them a try. And when I tried them out for the first time, they did seem quite comfortable. That was, until I somehow managed to drop one lens and Teal'c managed to step on it, just barely thirty minutes after we'd stepped on the soil of another planet. If Sam hadn't brought my spare glasses, we'd have had to go back to the SGC right away. After that incident, I gave up using contact lenses, even though Teal'c apologized quite seriously and bought me a new set. (I will _never_ forget the look on his face when he'd stepped on it, though. There was that almost inaudible crunch sound, and his ever so impassive face was twisted in such a way that it was almost impossible to tell if he was laughing or grimacing.) 

There are other options, Jack said once. One day, Jack came through my door with a pamphlet for the eye vision surgery on his hand, and that 'I just swallowed a canary' smile on his face. 

No way. 

Not even Jack's subtle persuasion was going to make me go through a surgery. With a pair of glasses, I can see perfectly well. Besides, sometimes the glasses remind me of the good times, bringing out cherished memories. On Abydos, they symbolized my stature as a scholar. I'm embarrassed to admit that there, for the first time in my life, I secretly enjoyed wearing glasses and even prided myself for it. People thought the glasses represented my uniqueness, me being their savior. 

And there was Sha're. Like everyone else, she was very careful in touching and handling the fragile glasses whenever we were together. But she never treated me special for that. She insisted I looked funny with the glasses, and just loved taking the glasses off my face, touching and teasing my face with her gentle hands. To her, these glasses represented the fact I was different, that I might leave. I told her I'd never, ever leave her. 

I didn't get to keep that promise. 

I still wear glasses. There's certain comfort in them. Familiarity, I guess. My father wore them, for instance. The black wire rim glasses that always got dirty after a day at the dig. It was a daily ritual for him to clean them at night, and if I'd been a good boy that day, I got a chance to clean them. Such fascination I felt with those two transparent lenses... Even after my parents died, I cleaned them up again and again, to savor the memory. 

And sometime in there I developed the funny habit of taking mine off from time to time, to see the world with my blurry vision. Without the glasses, the world looks different. It's like looking out through the window of a bus packed with people on a cold, rainy day. Everything outside looks foggy and every object is blurred as if you're trapped inside an odorless, shapeless, and endless white abyss. And that abyss gives comfort. After all, you only see the vague outline of things, no details. So you don't need to worry about those things you don't usually want to see in this world -- people in pain, corruption, greed, your loved ones dying and withering away. 

You don't need to care. 

But time passed. The Stargate happened. Abydos happened. I ended up in a military base, risking my not-so-steely-neck every single time. Jack, Sam, and Teal'c happened. Like a miracle, I found my family, where I belong. 

And with time, I've learned to care. I've learned to appreciate the things I'd miss without the glasses. You see, without the glasses, I wouldn't be able to see the details of beautiful mountains, every curve of them meeting and departing from each other, the fluffy looking outlines of thick, white clouds in the blue sky, and faint stars shining in their corner of the indigo sky, each burning with its own myths and legends to tell. 

Without the glasses, I would miss all of them, and most importantly, miss the subtle changes in my friends' expressions: Jack's smug expression, the little twitch he makes with his lips all curled up at the edge, his eyes glittering playfully. The way Teal'c raises his eyebrow (almost reaching his hair, except he has no hair) whenever he's amused, and boy, is he unsuccessful in hiding his amused looks. Sam's pretty smile, the way her face lights up like a Christmas tree, blushing in rosy red with dimples. General Hammond's tightened jaw with hard eyes, expressing just how much he worries about us every time a mission goes wrong. Janet's annoyed look, with her lips tightly sealed and her eyes shining with that 'Daniel, you again?!' glint. 

All those things I don't get to appreciate if I don't wear glasses. A few minutes after taking off my glasses, I wear them again, and look at the world. With all the details, the world looks beautiful again, because I can see my friends' faces, read their expressions, and know how much I care for them and how much they care for me. 

But today, I wish I weren't wearing the glasses. 

Today, I wish I didn't see the expression on Jack and Sam's face when they came thought the 'Gate. 

Today I wish I saw nothing at all. 

Sam's face is guilt-ridden, containing shock, panic, and some other emotions I can't possibly read. And Jack... his face is rigid and cold. Suddenly I'm back in Jack's house, where he's telling me that our friendship means nothing to him. I never wanted to see that particular expression of his again. Cold, detached, tightly controlled, yet with all the anger apparent in his eyes. I thought it'd be the last time that I ever saw Jack talking to me that way. He was doing his undercover job, just pretending. He didn't mean any of the things he said to me. 

Today, on the planet, he'd told me to shut up with exactly the same expression. 

And now, he's wearing it again. 

"Did any of them attempt to escape through the Stargate?" Teal'c asks as the general leaves the embark room. 

Jack looks straight at him with an emotionless stare. "No." 

But Sam's face says otherwise. 

"They did, didn't they?" I ask, not even trying to hide the edge in my voice. 

"What?" Jack exclaims, annoyance plainly written on his face 

"They tried to escape through the Stargate." I can't try to hide the accusing tone of the voice because I am, in fact, accusing him. 

Teal'c looks puzzled, Sam looks remorseful, and Jack... he's not even looking at me. 

He just spits out the words, "Don't be ridiculous." Then he turns, dismissing me with a wave. 

He's just about to walk away, and I don't intend to let him. I look up to the control room and yell, "Davis!" 

Jack stops and whirls around. 

"Daniel, what are you doing?" Sam asks with a hint of panic in her voice. 

I look straight into Jack's eyes. "Being rude." 

His expression betrays no emotion. He simply stares. At me. 

"Yes, Dr. Jackson," Davis' voice sounds hollow through the speakerphone. 

"Was there any impact made to the Iris after we all came in?" 

I don't have to turn and see Davis to know that he just winced. "One, sir." 

My throat is dry. "Who was it?" 

After a few seconds' silence, Jack answers, still wearing that awful blank expression, "Alar." 

God. "You knew." 

There's nothing in Jack's expression. Nothing. "Yes." 

"You condemned him to death." 

His eyes are cool, and there's still no emotion in them. "I warned him not to follow us. He did. So he died. Any more questions?" 

I wish I could just take off my glasses. I wish I didn't have to see Jack's face in front of me. I wish I weren't stupid enough to continue this conversation that would hurt us one way or the other. "You _told_ us to close the Iris. You told us to close the Iris _deliberately._ " 

"Daniel," Sam is quick to defend Jack, "We told him not to follow us. Alar made his choice." 

I don't want to talk about this. I really don't. But it's too late to stop myself. Too damn late. "You knew he was coming after you. Of course he would be. He'd die if he stayed," I sound bitter even to my ears, "He had to take his chance, and you knew it." 

Jack simply says, "He was a racist bastard." 

"And so are you." I find myself speaking angrily, "You judged him and let him die." 

"I can't believe this," Jack exclaims incredulously, "You're _defending_ him?! You were the one wanting to ask _questions_ to see if we were doing the _right thing._ " 

"Yes I was. And we weren't doing the right thing." 

"Yeah, Daniel. You were right. Are you happy now?" He marches toward me, and only stops when his face is just an inch away from mine. "The people who offered us the tech that could save our butts from Goa'ulds turned out to be committing genocide on a planetary scale. And yes, I knew he'd follow us. So what? Why do I care?" 

I wish I were hearing nothing. I can't turn my eyes away from Jack's steely gaze. 

Jack continues with a low, sarcastic voice, "You're always like this, Daniel. You think everything is always black and white. Well, wake up and face reality, Mr. Last Boy Scout. We're fighting to save Earth from Goa'ulds. You think we could get away without blood on our hands? Sorry, it won't happen." 

I remember the conversation we had in his house. I remember telling him that maybe I never knew him at all. But this, now, this is different. This time I know Jack. And maybe, maybe I even understand him. 

But understanding has nothing to do with this. Understanding doesn't stop this tremor that is going through inside me. Understanding doesn't even stop me from raising my voice and saying, "That's not the issue! The man is dead, however bad and evil he'd been, he's _dead._ And he wasn't even a Goa'uld. Doesn't this mean anything to you?" 

"Might as well has been," Jack speaks so casually, it hurts me to even listen to him like this, "He lied to us and used us to gain what he wanted." 

I say the only thing that comes to my mind. "Just like what we were doing." 

"Don't look so shocked and pretend you didn't know that about me." There is something in his eyes that I recognize now. He's tired, exhausted, and maybe secretly wishes he didn't have to do it, but he's not going to apologize for what he did. This is Jack. "I condemned countless people to death before, Daniel. I've pulled the trigger. This time I didn't even pull the trigger myself." 

"No. You only let him die knowingly." 

"Yes," Jack takes a step away from me and speaks deliberately, "And you'd do the same if it was a Goa'uld." 

There it is. The truth. Out in the open. 

Jack only watches, waiting for my reaction after so casually wounding me with his words. 

I can't deny what he said. 

And I feel like punching him on the face. 

Slowly, Jack turns away. I don't know what he saw in my expression, and if he saw anything, I don't want to know. 

He is right. I'd have done the same if Alar was a Goa'uld. I'm no different. 

"And just to let you know," Jack speaks quietly just before he disappears beyond the door, "I'll do it again in a heartbeat." 

I don't look. I just take off my glasses, and clean them with the edge of my jacket, trembling. 

Sam's saying something to me. I bet Teal'c is looking at me worriedly now. But I see nothing and hear nothing. I only feel the fragile rim of the glasses in my hand. With a one squeeze, the glasses are broken into pieces. They fall on the floor, making almost no sound at all. 

There's nothing left. I don't have to put on my glasses again. I can safely stay in the white, intoxicating abyss that welcomes me. And it's not because I don't want to see Jack or the ugliness of the world. 

Because I don't want to see myself, and know what I've become. 

**~ The End ~**

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>   
>  © August 25, 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.  
> 

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**Author's Note:** I noticed (like many other people) that sometimes Daniel takes off his glasses whenever he has a chance, while, ironically, not even trying to wear contact lenses (for the obvious reason. ~g~). Thanks to Sharakh for her wonderful beta job. My savior! This is dedicated to Jb for organizing the wonderful Saturday event. Thanks, Judy. (Does this work as a bribe for more Saturdays to come? You decide.) 

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End file.
